


Port in a Storm

by HarpiaHarpyja



Series: Two Halves - Reylo Weekly Challenge Flash Fiction [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Arguing Over Piloting Rights, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Ill-Advised Drinking Ventures, POV Kylo Ren, Pamarthe, Port in a Storm, Resistance Agent Kylo Ren, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Weekly Challenge, Speeders, Trapped in a Speeder Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 08:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14328105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarpiaHarpyja/pseuds/HarpiaHarpyja
Summary: Toward the end of a successful mission on Pamarthe, Kylo and Rey get stuck in a broken-down speeder during a storm.  Rey finds a mysterious beverage in the back of the speeder, and when the drink gets the better of her, they begin to talk about a future after the war.





	Port in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the fifth @two-halves-of-reylo Tumblr weekly challenge, “Speeders” theme.

Another gust of wind rocked the fuselage as rain beat an urgent rhythm against the speeder’s windshield. The sound of the lashing torrent was almost enough to drown out yet another rumble of thunder. Once, a long time ago, Kylo had wanted to see Pamarthe, a planet famed for massive island-studded oceans and an intrepid piloting culture. He’d been a naive kid then. Of course he’d wanted to visit it. He hadn’t considered the circumstances that might finally see him attain that goal: acting as an agent of the Resistance, sent to the Outer Rim world to meet with members of a sympathetic paramilitary cell and discuss options for taking their involvement in the movement off-planet.

He also hadn’t considered that said mission would end with a downed speeder half mired in mud in the middle of a small island that, by all accounts, had no one living on it. No, he reminded himself. The mission hadn’t ended. This was temporary. The storm would pass, they would be able to complete their repairs, and they would be able to complete their mission. 

These assurances did little to allay his displeasure with the current situation. He and Rey were holed up miserably in the speeder cabin, soaked to the bone and covered in mud from their fruitless attempts to locate and address the problem despite the elements being aggressively against them. Kylo hated losing, and he hated that he’d been conquered by something as ordinarily surmountable as _weather_.

“You should have let me pilot,” he said, breaking a short-lived silence. He was fairly certain he’d already said this to her, several times, but it couldn’t hurt to repeat it. 

Rey sank down into the co-pilot’s seat (of course, now that they couldn’t actually get anywhere, she’d let him have the pilot’s chair), her feet propped on the control panel, depressing buttons that currently didn’t matter. Her filthy boots were strewn across the seats behind them. 

“What difference would that have made? Unless you’re suggesting that something about my flying caused the lateral thruster to give. In which case, I’d love you to explain that logic to me.”

He wasn’t suggesting that at all, but it was tempting to launch into a lecture anyway. It would pass the time. Instead, he tipped his head back so he could glare at the ceiling. “Is it a thruster problem? I thought we said it was some botched wiring.”

“We? That was just you, as I remember.” Rey raised an eyebrow and sighed loudly. “We’ll know when we know. Would you like to place a bet?”

“Wiring would be easier to address,” he said, ignoring her suggestion of a gamble. Luck didn’t seem to be on his side tonight. Or hers, for that matter. 

“It’s all the same if something needs to be replaced and us without a way to do it out here.”

He considered this in silence for a moment, then laughed sharply. “Yes. Unfortunate.”

“We’ll make it work. We’re good at improvising.”

They had done their best to narrow it down, but the true nature of the problem would likely remain a mystery until they were able to give the vessel a thorough evaluation. Such a thing was not possible right now for several reasons. The hour: it was late, and pitch dark. The rain: pouring in near-solid sheets, sometimes horizontally, further eliminating visibility. The wind: strong enough that it had nearly knocked Rey off balance at least twice when the gusts really picked up, and had done the same to Kylo once (though he wasn’t going to admit that to her or himself). The mud: their speeder had landed hard in it and was partially submerged. 

With all the other factors already in play, lifting it out by means of the Force to get properly under it and determine what was wrong seemed deeply unwise. They had tried that anyway, and stopped after it nearly ended with Rey crushed beneath the speeder’s considerable mass. So they had their pet theories, and at some juncture, one or neither would prove accurate. 

“Anyway,” Rey continued, leaning forward a little to prod at the currently defunct comlink. “I won the toss to pilot, so too bad. Fair’s fair.”

Kylo groaned, but he was fighting a smug smile. “How would you feel if I told you I let you win that toss?”

“You didn’t.” She didn’t sound confident in this assertion.

He did. It had been very easy to control the fall of the old Pamarthen coin they’d flipped so that it looked like nothing was amiss. Until now, he thought she’d noticed and just not said anything. He spared a look at Rey, who was narrowing her eyes at him like she was trying to see through to where he’d pocketed the coin afterward.

“You did,” she amended. “Well, then you have even less right to complain. Why did you do that if you wanted to fly so badly?”

“I was feeling charitable.” 

Also, this speeder was a sad little hunk of junk that didn’t seem terribly fun to be in control of. Aside from two crew, there was room for three passengers in a row of seats behind them. This wasn’t a fighter, or even one of the flashier models favored by joyriders who liked a status symbol. It was likely used to shuttle people between islands. It was a glorified taxi. The only thing that suggested there was more to it than met the eye were the concealed blasters mounted on the back. But even with those, their Pamarthen contacts had been adamant that this was the most inconspicuous method of travel for their needs.

Rey saw right through him. “Ben Solo, you’re a ship snob.”

“So are you, Rey . . . of Jakku.” 

“Smooth.” 

She pursed her lips and watched Kylo adjust the lantern they’d found in the emergency kit and set up between them. At some point they might turn it off so that one or both of them could attempt to fall asleep. For now even the harsh light it provided was preferable to waiting for the occasional flash of lightning to relieve them of the near-total darkness. A peal of thunder made the lantern vibrate where it sat on the control panel, and a moment later the wind shook the whole speeder as lightning flickered.

“I thought I was enjoying this planet,” Rey said once everything settled again. “But I’m starting to reconsider.” 

Abruptly, she bucked in her seat, twisted around to kneel, and threw herself half over into the row of passenger seats behind them. She narrowly missed hitting Kylo in the face with her hip, and that only because he dodged out of the way. “Watch out,” he warned uselessly. 

“Ah, I saw something back here earlier . . .” She was rooting around, and he could hear something clattering and rolling. 

“Take the lantern at least.”

“Don’t need it. Here we go. Look!”

As she settled back into her seat, she revealed the fruits of her brief search: a stubby glass bottle with a cork stopper, filled with thin, dark amber liquid. After a moment, he pieced something together.

“Don’t drink that.”

“What? Why not?”

Seeing that his chivalrous warning was not going to be taken seriously, he tried to take the bottle from her, but she held it out of reach. “It’s Pamarthen booze. Off-worlders aren't known to handle it well. At all.”

“‘Port in a Storm,’” Rey read slowly, relishing the words as she held the bottle label before the lantern to see just what it was she’d found. Judging by her expression, she had no idea. “That sounds appropriate, given . . . everything. Meant to be?”

All this did was fortify Kylo’s dawning alarm. “I know you’re not going to listen to me. So let me say anyway, you are not going to enjoy that.”

Rey waved him off and uncorked the bottle. She took a sniff, made a face that suggested she might listen to him after all, and relaxed into her seat. “Stop, I’ve had alcohol before. I just want a taste. I’m cold, and wet, and annoyed, and this smells strong enough to at least help mitigate that a little.”

“Yeah, there’s a good reason for that.” 

He was about to embark on one last attempt to save her from herself, but it was too late. Rey took her taste. And immediately cried out in something close to actual pain. Her reaction was so intense that Kylo even felt some residual form of it himself, and he had to blink a few times to clear the stars in his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked. Rey gave no answer, but he finally managed to get the bottle out of her hands. She was too busy covering her face and making a very strange moaning sound to resist. After replacing the cork, he let it rest on the floor between his feet and turned back to her. At least she hadn't gotten immediately sick. That was the last thing they needed. “How do you feel?”

“Completely fucked,” she croaked through her hands. When she looked at him, she had tears streaming down her face, which, even in the odd lighting, was terribly red. She coughed twice, frowned, and swatted him. “That was terrible. It _hurts_. Like someone just set a bomb off inside my stomach. Who drinks something like that?”

“Pamarthens. And Chewie, actually. I think.”

“ _Lunatics_ on this planet.” She palmed the moisture from her face and sniffled angrily. “Wonder what it was doing back there.”

“Maybe they left it hoping one of us would find it and be witless enough to try it.”

“Funny,” Rey muttered. “Give me the bottle back, I want to toss it out into the rain.” 

“We should keep it. Might be able to use it tomorrow if we need an extra solvent to fix . . . whatever.”

The way she glared at him was mildly terrifying, but then she nodded and laughed a little, though the effort seemed to cause her discomfort again. “You’re right, that would do it.” 

“Or we could bring it back with us and get Dameron to drink it. That _would _be funny.”__

__“Stop.” But she was smiling. Good._ _

__Rey shivered and coughed one more time, then shifted nearer, cozying her head into his shoulder. Her face was so warm that he could actually feel the heat of it through his soaked shirt and jacket. Given how wet both of them still were, and otherwise grimy and cold, he immediately wanted more of that shared heat. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and let her nestle more snugly against him._ _

__“Thank you for trying to warn me,” she said a few minutes later, when neither of them was shivering any longer. Her voice sounded almost normal again, and she curled her arm more tightly around his middle. “I thought you were just being an ass.”_ _

__She had begun petting at his hair and dragging her nails over his scalp a while ago, and it was so pleasantly distracting that he didn’t immediately register that she’d spoken to him. “Well. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never tried it. So you have that over me.”_ _

__In addition to how many other things at this point. This was one case in which he didn’t mind being shown up._ _

__“I’m not even going to bring it up again.” She sighed and plucked at the ends of his hair near his ear. “Too bad about the comlink,” she said, sounding troubled. “Probably doesn’t matter, but I can’t shake the thought they’ll worry. It’s been a while since we had contact.”_ _

“They won’t worry.” He supposed she had a point about the timing. Their last exchange with the Resistance base had been over a day ago, before their rendezvous with the Pamarthen cell. Their original plan was to give an update once they made it back to the _Falcon_ , which had not yet happened. Still, it wasn’t as if anyone had reason to believe the two of them couldn’t get the job done out here. Delays happened. At this juncture, Kylo felt more for the fact that Rey seemed to be worrying. “You shouldn’t, either.” 

__“I know. I’m not.” Her hand flexed over his ribs, and she curled her knees up a little. “I keep thinking they’ll wonder if we’re dead. It’s silly.”_ _

__That was a little morbid. And premature, after only a day. He was met with the unexpected reminder that Rey hadn’t been raised to understand this sort of life. That to her, even now, there was probably a tiny voice that warned her not to trust short absences. Kylo’s mind wandered to a place that surprised him. He knew he shouldn’t say it, but he did anyway. “If they did, maybe that would be an opportunity?”_ _

__He didn’t mean it. Even if he still wasn’t convinced he’d ever truly belong there, he had accepted his lot with the Resistance. He intended to stick it out, whatever the convoluted path he’d taken to get there. He wouldn’t leave. Not without Rey. Probably not with her, either, even if he thought she’d allow it. There was still a very small part of him that wondered what he would do, though, if she looked at him right now, or ever, and told him she didn’t want to go back. It was safe to wonder; the chances of that were so slim as to root it firmly in the territory of self-indulgent fantasy._ _

__She drew back and looked up at him with a peculiar expression. She was trying to figure out if he was being serious. He’d hoped she’d already know he wasn’t._ _

__“I’m joking,” he said, when it began to seem clarification really was in order. He shivered again and let his face rest against hers. It bothered him more than he expected to think that she didn’t fully trust his commitment to this. To her. He was probably reading too much into her reaction._ _

__“I know. Sorry. Anyway, it’s more likely they think we got stuck somewhere and are passing the time destroying our livers with the Pamarthens.” She shrugged into him. “Or having sex with each other.”_ _

__“What?” He tilted his head. Evidently, she wasn’t worrying anymore. “Want to? It might help take the chill off.”_ _

“That’s very pragmatic of you. But no. Not really. Ask me again when we get back to the _Falcon_.” 

__Kylo nodded slowly, not particularly disappointed. His disdain for this vehicle would unlikely be improved by anything that transpired within it at this point, even that._ _

__Rey groaned. “My brain’s all fuzzed. Maybe I'm drunk.”_ _

“You're not drunk.” Kylo sort of wished _he_ was drunk. But not quite enough to risk the Port. 

__A few moments went by in silence, the only sound the persistent drumming of the rain. He thought about what he’d said to her, about opportunities and leaving. He shouldn’t have said it, even in jest. Now she was going to keep wondering about him. Had she ever stopped? He knew better by now than to let himself think this way. It was still difficult to avoid sometimes._ _

__When Rey spoke again, it sounded as if she was responding to something he had just said, and the firmness of her tone jarred him. “One day.”_ _

__“One day you’ll be drunk?”_ _

__“No.” Rey pushed herself up straighter and sat back a little, looking at him solemnly. She took his hand and ran a thumb over his knuckles. “One day, we can just go off. When this is all over. You and me. Do what we want. I know you were just joking, but it’s what you want. Isn’t it?”_ _

__“Ah.” He licked his lips and watched the lantern shudder in the thunder. “Yeah. Yes. It is.”_ _

__“Good. So do I. So, we’ll do it.” She took his face in her cold hands and kissed him once. “I promise.”_ _


End file.
